Thomas notched the arrow to his bow, squinting at the target. It had been a week they’d been in training now, though it had only seemed like a couple of days – that was how busy they’d been. Dawn to dusk, no stop. Thomas was secretly glad that they were always doing something, since he was sure that if they took a moment’s respite, he would collagese, just as he did when he reached his bunk each evening.

He pulled the string back and let fly. The arrow whistled through the air, passing to the left of the target stand, missing it by barely an inch.

Better, he thought. But more to the right, next time. Somewhere in the background, Dyer was yelling osmething about having to shoot a moving target while on a horse (“You’d better not be shooting like this then!”).

“She never gets hoarse, does she?” he asked the trainee next to him, shaking his head in admiration. In the week he’d been here, he’d learned to really respect the commander. Respect, not fear. He’d feared her from the beginning.

Aedre blew a whisp of hair from her face, and smiled at the comment of the boy next to her- Thomas, that was his name. "No, I don`t think she does."

Rolling her shoulders she notched another arrow to the bow, she sighted slowly, not wanting to make a mistake an impale some one.

"It`s odd to think," she murmered, "that in time, it won`t be straw targets we`re shooting at." She released the arrow and watched it sore into the target. It missed the circle completley. But considering she had never held a bow before a week or two ago, she was pleased with her process.

“You really think so?” he asked, seriously surprised. “There aren’t too many bandits left these days the way the Riders and the Own have been cracking down, except in the northern hill country – Tirragen area. They seem to like it there, most probably because the Lords there are too poor to hire men-at-arms.”

“Better than me,” he remarked of her performance with the bow. “That one actually looked like it was going the right way. It must have been the wind.”

He said this even though it was obvious that there was not a breeze to be had. The morning was awful – hot and humid, and it it would only get hotter and more humid. Some of the male trainees had taken of their shirts, and the Commander had responded by slapping their bare backs with the wet towel she used to mop her face. Dyer puzzled him sometimes – if she really wanted to hurt them, why didn’t she just use her belt? But that was one of the many things about the Riders that didn’t quite make sense to Thomas…

Lorelle jogged up to the archery range, trying as hard as she could to keep her left arm still. It was still in a sling from her accident on the first day. The palace healers had looked at it, but the break in her collarbone was complex and would have been hard to heal with magic. But at the same time, it was not life-threatening, so the healers decided to let the bone heal naturally.

The young woman had help with this decision by refusing any magical means of numbing the pain. She reasoned that when she became a rider, she would have to learn to deal with pain on her own.

Lorelle watched Thomas shoot for a few minutes, then shook her head and walked over. "Your feet are positioned wrong," she said, and began nudging his foot with her booted toes, hoping to make him move them in to the correct position. "Pretend there is an arrow laying at your feet. You want the arrow to point to the bull's eye."

((Heh, I've done that to a friend of mine. She got very irritated.))

Aedre looked down, and guilty corrected her own feet. "There`ll always be bandits and the like." She said, sighting her arrow again.

"Besides, what about everything else out there? My brother said that some of the immortal populations are really thriving." She loosened, then swore as the arrow flew into the dirt at the foot of the target.

She rubbed her arms, "Makes me feel sort of...I don`t know. Worried...I guess."

[A regular stoic already!]

Thomas turned to her, a little surprised. He’d have Lorelle over Dyer anyday, but she probably didn’t realize just how gods-damned annoying she was being right now. Sighing longsufferingly, he followed her directions, allowing her to push his feet around until they were in the Lorelle-proclaimed correct position.

“Shouldn’t that be healed by now?” he asked roughly, nodding toward her arm. “I thought the palace healers were better than that. That’s what everyone says, anyhow.” He shrugged.

Turning to Aedre he asked, "Is your brother in the Riders?"

Lorelle rolled her eyes at Thomas's sigh. "I'm sorry if I'm annoying you, but you were wrong," she said. "I figured it would be better for a friend to correct you then to have Dyer come over and whip you with her towel."

The young woman looked down at her sling. "The healers didn't think it was worth it to heal it fully," she answered. "They're just speeding up it's natural healing. Not as fast as I would like, though," she continued. "I'm about to go out of my mind with boredom."

"You could knit." He shrugged. "That's what my sisters did, all the time. I don't know what girls do." He noticed Dyer staring in his direction, and quickly notched another arrow to his string and aimed.

Miniya casually listened to the other trainees chitter chatter. She has been going smooth with the bow and arrow. It was one of her better weapons, unlike the spear, javelin, and axes. Those can go burn. Resting her bow on the ground, she presumed to rotate her shoulders and arms. Damn were they aching... Maybe she tightened it too much.

Glancing over at Thomas, she rolled her eyes. "That requires two ligaments, if you haven't noticed." She muttered lightly, picking her bow up again.

Thomas turned to Miniya, bow going slack, arrow falling to the ground.

"What's a ligament?"

Aedre winked. "All three of my brothers are Riders. I`m here to join them."

She caught sight of Dyer at the same time Thomas did, and hurriedly returned attention to her bow.

She blinked when the other girl spoke. When Thomas asked his question, she nodded her confusion.

She turned to Lorelle, "Don`t it hurt lots?"

Lorelle almost shrugged, then realised that that would not be a good idea. "Some," she answered truthfully. "It hurt a lot worse when I first broke it. Now it's more of an annoyance."

The young woman looked over at Dyer, but didn't move. It wasn't like she could pick up a bow herself. Well, she could, but she wouldn't be able to pull it. "I figure I'll have to get used to pain eventually, though, if I want to be a Rider."

Miniya glanced at the other trainees. Had she been so loud? "Wrists, shoulders, knuckles, knees... Connections, basically." She replied shortly.

Taking an arrow out of her quiver, she twirled it for a moment. Idly, taking as much time as she can, she notched it. Pulling the tense string back with the arrow, she aimed. Tilting up slightly to the appropiate angle, she repleased the arrow. Cutting through the air, it landed deeply in the strawmans chest, just to the left of the heart.

"Wake up Clayson and pick up the speed." Dyer commented, not looking at where it landed.

"Oh." Wondering what the commander had against compliments, Thomas picked up the arrow again, notched it, and let fly, hoping fervently that it hit somewhere near where Min's had. The arrow went through the head, making a riffing sound, and came out the other end.

"Try aiming for the target next time," Dyer commented nastily, then moved on to belabour some other lucky trainees further on.

"You know," said Thomas, once she was out of hearing distance, "If that'd been a real person, he'd be dead." Quieter, he added, "we've been at this about an hour and a half, right? Because I think..."

Lorelle looked at the arrow hole thoughtfully. "Maybe, maybe not," she said after a moment. "If it had been a real person in combat, they probably would have been wearing some sort of helmet. Most head protection is rounded, which causes weapons to slide off."

The girl looked over at Thomas when he trailed off, ceasing her ramble. "You think what?" she asked curiously, hoping no one thought she was a know-it-all. She wasn't trying to show off; she just didn't like people to continue thinking something that was incorrect.

Thomas grunted.

"Well, armor is expensive," he replied.

He shot another arrow, wondering doggedly why all his conversations with Lorelle turned into insipid arguments. It wasn't like he was stupid or anything, she was just always right.

"So, you know everything about the Riders, then?" he asked Aedre hopefully.

Aedre shrugged, watching carefully for the Commander.

"Some," She said, fitting an arrow. "My brothers tell me all th tales they can. They say it`s hard, HARD work. But worth it."

She loosened and watched her arrow fly into the man`s croch. She winced. "Well it would take him down anyway." She mumbled, a blush rising in her cheeks.

"What do you wanna know? She asked Thomas, flashing him a sheepish grin. "I could ask for you."

"Everything," he told her seriously. "For example, how long will we be doing this-" he shot again, not even bothering to look where it landed, "-until were able to hit the target, what's summer camp, what do we do there, when do we actually get to fight, and how long will we be stuck with-" he jabbed his thumb at Dyer," -her." He sighed longsuffering. "There are a lot of rumors going around, but no one really knows anything."

Adere gave him a grim smile. "My brothers said that they train you longs as they think you need it." She didn't add the comment her brother had added after that, that was personal. he r face lit up, "But he said Summer Training...or Camp. Is lots of fun. Even if they do work you into the dust." She shot and arrow, and yipped in approval when it grazed the center ring. "And most of it is just like the class room work...but learning it on the field, he says."

"Oh, lots of fun," he echoed, with a touch of sarcasm, watching his arrow fly to the outer rim of the target. He squinted appreciatively, then shot again. Deciding he'd done enough whining, he attempted a change of subject.

"So, where are you from?" he asked tentatively.

Miniya watched Dyer's back as she continued insulting and strolling by. As Dyer hadn't yet turned around, Min didn't bother much to pick up speed. Besides, the woman wouldn't know unless she was Shakith. Mithros, forbid that.

Ignoring the trainee's, she carefully picked an arrow out of the quiver.
Taking her amble time, she notched an arrow and presumed to slowly pull her cramped muscles back, aimed, and released the string. Quickly, the arrow cut through the air. It than landed deeply, a spot not to far from the center.

"Clayson!" Dyer snapped, startling the Carthaki girl. Curse it, she is a deity. Grumbling, Miniya repeated it for the commander, up to speed. However, she miscaculated her aim and it landed higher than the bulls eye.

Dyer than turned to the chatting trainees, "Quit chatting and start shooting! If you run out of arrows, go and fetch them."

Aedre shot, cursing her aim as the arrow landed on the ground. Dyer barked a insult and Aedre made a face.

She sighed, "A minor fief close to the River Olorun." she told her him. "My kin, we"re all tanners." she winked at Thomas.

"You?" she asked as she sighted again.

"Farmers," he replied noncommitally, not even pausing to look at her. He shot again.

"Ah." she inspected and arrow, then rejected it. There was a crack in its shaft.

"What made you want to join the Riders?"

"Well, it seemed like a safe position - well," he stammered, "when you're in the Riders, you're pretty much guaranteed a free meal every day. Er... but that wasn't really my only reason," he added quickly, "I, uhm, like fighting... and, protecting... people, er, the weak..." He tried to smile, but it only made him appear nervous. He quickly busied himself with fitting another arrow on his shaft.

Aedre grinned. "I know what you mean." She said queitly as she discarded her broken arrow for a new one.

"Really?" he asked, gulping nervously, as he stared at her.

Jerkily, he turned his attention back to shooting. He'd hit a couple, now closer on in to the middle of the target, and a dull sense of pleasure was creeping over him.

"I didn't know anyone really thought that way," he muttered at last. People in Corus were almost like another species altogether!

[Okees, we're gonna be moving boards soon, make sure you check out the board labeled "Important" in Announcements to find the URL (when it gets posted). Chances are you'll get some kind of email, but, just in case...

I'm thinking after this, we skip right on to summer camp. Traineeship is dull. :unsure: ]

Aedre snorted, "Only people who get food served to them don't think like that."

Dyer shouted and the trainee's began to clean and store their weapons.

"I'm sure that's why my brother joined." She grinned, "But of course...it could have just been to get away from my kin folk." She laughed.

"Oh." Now Thomas was confused, but, nevertheless, a smile was beginning to form on his face as he recognized a familiar story. "No, I couldn't stand my family either. 'Fact," he mused, "can't even remember them, really, except that I didn't like them much. Well, that's funny..."

His bow hadn't collected much rosin since he'd barely used it, but, to satisfy Brindie, he gave it a good swipe with his oiled cloth. Unstringing his bow, he furled the waxed cord, and attached it to the end, since he couldn't really be sure where else to put it. His arrows looked all right - he'd made sure this time that no dirt or dust had made its way into his quiver.

"Dinner..." he muttered ecstatically, looking to Brindie for their dismissal.